"Well hardly that, although I shall use whatever means I possess. I intend to win her if I can, fair means, or foul." I drew a deep breath, comprehending now the full iniquity of his plot, and bracing myself to fight it. "And what about the other girl, Kirby? for there is another girl." "Yes," rather indifferently, "there is another." "Of course you know who she is?" "Certainly--a nigger, a white nigger; the supposed illegitimate daughter of Adelbert Beaucaire, and a slave woman. There is no reason why I should fret about her, is there? She is my property already by law." He laughed again, the same ugly sneering laugh of triumph, "That was why I was so particular about the wording of that bill of sale--I would rather have her than the whole bunch of field hands." "You believe then the girl has never been freed--either she, or her mother?" "Believe? I know. I tell you I never play any game with my eyes shut." "And you actually intend to--to hold her as a slave?" "Well, I'll look her over first before I decide--she would be worth a pot full of money down the river." CHAPTER VI INTO THE BLACK WATER The contemptuous, utterly indifferent manner in which he voiced his villainous purpose, would have crazed any man. Perhaps he intended that it should, although it was my belief that he merely expressed himself naturally, and with no thought of consequences. The man was so steeped in crime as to be ignorant of all sense of honor, all conception of true manhood. But to me this utterance was the last straw, breaking down every restraint, and leaving me hot, and furious with anger. I forgot the muzzle of the pistol pressed against my side, and the menacing threat in Kirby's low voice. The face of the man was indistinct, a mere outline, but the swift impulse to strike at it was irresistible, and I let him have the blow--a straight-arm jab to the jaw. My clinched knuckles crunched against the flesh, and he reeled back, kept from falling only by the support of the deckhouse. There was no report of a weapon, no outcry, yet, before I could strike again, I was suddenly gripped from behind by a pair of arms, which closed about my throat like a vise, throttling me instantly into silent helplessness. I struggled madly to break free, straining with all the art of a wrestler, exerting every ounce of strength, but the grasp which held me was unyielding, robbing me of breath, and defeating every effort to call for help; Kirby, dazed yet by my sudden blow, and eager to take a hand in the affray, struck me a cowardly blow in the face, and swung his undischarged pistol to a level with my eyes. "Damn you!" he ejaculated, and for the first time his voice really exhibited temper. "I'd kill you with this, but for the noise. No, by God! there is a safer way than that to settle with you. Have you got the skunk, Carver?" "You can bet I have, Joe. I kin choke the life out o' him--shall I?"